We now must relinquish doubt as to the meetings at the parsonage, for here we have distinct historical mention of a circle, which met “at Mr. Parris’s house” for the purpose of practically manifesting the skill and powers, not of learners, but of an expert in the wonders of “necromancy, magic, and especially of Spiritualism.” This circle met, at five days’ notice, on the evening of January 20, 1692. A man, or “something like a man,” was at the head of it, and five females, three of them at least embodied ones, were his assistants, or rather were reservoirs from whence he drew forces with which to experiment upon two little mediumistic girls. If a club of women and girls sometimes met for such purposes as are alleged in foregoing citations,—and perhaps it did in a loose, irregular way,—we fancy that Tituba’s tutor was ever among them taking notes, scrutinizing their several properties, capabilities, and circumstances, and planning when and how to use them for most efficient accomplishment of his purposes. The fact that he was present as author and master spirit when the first act of the Salem Village tragedy was visibly manifested through the twitchings and contortions of two little girls, is distinctly shown by Tituba’s testimony. Therefore henceforth there can be neither historical nor philanthropic justice in imputing to the brains and wills of the little girls what a present and conscious clairvoyant witness imputes distinctly to one who looked “something like a man.” Give to him—whoever he was—give to him his just dues; also bestow upon the girls neither censure nor praise for the help which their organisms and temperaments necessarily afforded him. This meeting of apparitions, be it noted and remembered, took place immediately before the sickness of the children came on, and during its session, the children were pinched, and thus first became “afflicted ones.” On that Wednesday night “Abigail first became ill.”
“Q. Where was your master then? A. In the other room. Q. What time of night? A. A little before prayer-time. Q. What did this man say to you when he took hold of you? A. He say, Go into the other room and see the children, and do hurt to them and pinch them. And then I went in and would not hurt them a good while; I would not hurt Betty; I loved Betty; but they haul me, and make me pinch Betty, and the next Abigail; and then quickly went away altogether a[fter] I had pinch them. Q. Did you go into that room in your own person, and all the rest? A. Yes; and my master did not see us, for they would not let my master see.”
Mr. Parris and the children seem from the above to have been in the same apartment that evening, for Tituba states that he was “in the other room,” and her dictator said to her, “Go into the other room,” and hurt the children. That the master of the house was present with his daughter and niece then, may be indicated also in the statement that “they would not let my master see;” for this implies that they were in his presence, though invisible. If she went to the room in her physical form—which is not stated, and is not probable—though she did go there in her “own person,” the others went only as spirits or as apparitions; and they did not so enrobe or materialize themselves as to be visible by outward eyes, and therefore did not become visible to Mr. Parris—they “would not let” him see. The first infliction upon the children, therefore, was made in his very presence, but by invisible hands—spirit hands or apparitional hands—touching the spirit forms of the mediumistic little girls, and through their own inner forms reaching, paining, and convulsing their physical bodies. It is interesting to note that because Tituba “loved Betty,” she was able to resist the pressure upon her “a good while;” but her feeble powers were incompetent to oppose unyielding and effectual resistance to the strong will of the producer of painful experiences.
“Q. Did you go with the company? A. No. I staid, and the man staid with me. Q. What did he then to you? A. He tell me my master go to prayer, and he read in book, and he ask me what I remember: but don’t you remember anything.”
This account fails to furnish any very conclusive evidence that either of the four other women was on that occasion consciously present with Tituba and the man; it need only indicate the probability that he drew properties from each of them, wherever located, whether in the Village, in Boston, or elsewhere, which enabled him to present their apparitions to Tituba as helpers, and to effect rapport with and get power over the children. When his immediate purpose had been accomplished, no one but the man could be seen by her. He perhaps left the female apparitions to dissolve when his further need of their properties ceased. There is no evidence that Good and Osburn were conscious of being present where Tituba saw them, and therefore the other two female forms may have been purely apparitional—mental fabrics of “the man.” But important points are clear. The man’s controlling will, and subjugated Tituba’s conscious self, were there.
“Q. Did he ask you no more but the first time to serve him? Or the second time? A. Yes, he ask me again if I serve him six years; and he come the next time and show me a book. Q. And when would he come then? A. The next Friday, and showed me a book in the daytime, betimes in the morning. Q. And what book did he bring, a great or little book? A. He did not show it me, nor would not, but had it in his pocket. Q. Did he not make you write your name? A. No, not yet, for my mistress called me into the other room. Q. What did he say you must do in that book? A. He said write and put my name to it. Q. Did you write? A. Yes, once, I made a mark in the book, and made it with red like blood. Q. Did he get it out of your body? A. He said he must get it out. The next time he come again, he gave me a pin tied in a stick to do it with; but he no let me blood with it as yet, but intended another time when he came again. Q. Did you see any other marks in his book? A. Yes, a great many; some marks red, some yellow; he opened his book, and a great many marks in it. Q. Did he tell you the names of them? A. Yes, of two; no more: Good and Osburn; and he say they made them marks in that book, and he showed them me. Q. How many marks do you think there was? A. Nine. Q. Did they write their names? A. They made marks. Goody Good said she made her mark, but Goody Osburn would not tell. She was cross to me. Q. When did Good tell you she set her hand to the book? A. The same day I came hither to prison. Q. Did you see the man that morning? A. Yes, a little in the morning, and he tell me the magistrates come up to examine me. Q. What did he say you must say? A. He tell me tell nothing; if I did, he would cut my head off.”
The questions relating to the book and signatures were based on, and made important by, then prevalent belief that one’s signature in the devil’s book proved the signing of a covenant to be henceforth his servant. Tituba’s statement that she had seen therein Sarah Good’s signature in her own blood, well might be then deemed strong evidence that Mrs. Good was a witch, and was guilty of witchcraft. But we doubt whether the witness had any conception of the fatal import of her statement. Her testimony that Goody Osburn was cross to her, while amusing, is also suggestive of the deep question whether even an apparition, produced by use of unconscious elements drawn from a human system, could or would be so permeated with the existing mental and emotional moods of the person from whom they were drawn as to cause those moods to be perceived and felt by those who might see, and receive influences from, the apparition. “The man” told her that the magistrates had come or were coming to examine her. She might have known this already, and might not. Be that as it may, on the morning of her examination A SPIRIT spoke to her. His counsel was, that she should say nothing. This advice seems wise. But it was not very “cunning” in her to repeat it, and make known its source “in presence of Authority.” Willing or not she was there constrained to speak out. Robert Calef, in “More Wonders of the Invisible World,” reports her as saying, “that her master did beat her and otherwise abuse her to make her confess and accuse (such as he called) her sister witches, and that whatsoever she said by way of confessing, or accusing others, was the effect of such usage.”
“Q. Tell us true; how many women do you use to come when you ride abroad? A. Four of them; these two, Osburn and Good, and those two strangers. Q. You say there was nine. Did he tell you who they were? A. No, he no let me see, but he tell me I should see them the next time. Q. What sights did you see? A. I see a man, a dog, a hog, and two cats, a black and red, and the strange monster was Osburn’s that I mentioned before; this was the hairy imp. The man would give it to me, but I would not have it. Q. Did he show you in the book which was Osburn’s and which was Good’s mark? A. Yes, I see their marks. Q. But did he tell you the names of the other? A. No, sir. Q. And what did he say to you when you made your mark? A. He said, Serve me; and always serve me. The man with the two women came from Boston. Q. How many times did you go to Boston? A. I was going and then came back again. I never was at Boston. Q. Who came back with you again? A. The man came back with me, and the women go away; I was not willing to go. Q. How far did you go—to what town? A. I never went to any town. I see no trees, no town. Q. Did he tell you where the nine lived? A. Yes; some in Boston and some here in this town, but he would not tell me who they were.”
We have now presented the full text of Tituba’s testimony as recorded by Corwin and printed by Drake. Severed from the leading and jumbled questions which drew it forth, and reduced to a simple narrative, her statement would in substance be nearly as follows:—
Something like a man came to me just as I was going to sleep the Friday night before Abigail was taken ill, six weeks and a little more ago, who then told me that he was God, that I must believe him, and that if I would serve him six years he would give me many fine things. He said there must be a meeting at my master’s house the next Wednesday, and on the evening of that day he and four women came there. Then I told him I could not believe that he was God, and proposed to go and ask Mr. Parris what he thought on that point; but the man held me back. They forced me against my will and my love for Betty to pinch the children; we did pinch them. That was the first night that Abigail was sick. Sometimes I saw the appearances of dogs, cats, birds, hogs, wolves, and a nondescript animal, some of whom spoke to me, and talked like the man. Yesterday, when I was in the lean-to chamber, I saw a thing like a man,—the same that I had seen before,—who asked me to serve him; and last night, when I was washing the room, the man and the four women all came again, and wanted me to hurt the children; and we all went up to Mr. Thomas Putnam’s, and hurt Ann, and cut her with a knife. I went to the Hubbard girl once, and pinched her, and once the man brought her over to me, and I pinched her; but I was not there when they say I was, though it may be that the man sent my apparition over there then without my knowing it. I once saw what looked like a wolf go out from Mrs. Good and run to the Hubbard girl. How we travel I don’t know; we go up in the air, and we are instantly at the place we intend to go to; we see no trees, no roads. The man brings cats or other things to me, and I pinch them; and by doing so the girls are pinched. Sometimes I can see these things for a while, and then instantly become blind to them. This morning the man came and told me the magistrates had come to examine me.